— Why are you stripping? — I am standing in my room, looking mortified at the badger that invaded it.

— Not gonna ruin my Wednesday best just to manage your wirework — Jasper responds as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

— Your “Wednesday best”? You mean a white t-shirt with a fish on it? 

— It is a whale.

Said whale lands right on my face. We moved the tables to the side to reveal the barren wall behind them. That’s when he started stripping. Stripping is a little bit of an overexaggeration, maybe fueled by a stray fantasy, but in reality, Steinberg only revealed his upper body. Still neat… You could get lost in the rippling grey fur of his back.

On my way out of that fur, I notice some branding on his scapula. It seems like some Novarans still do flesh-sculpting. I don’t recognise the brand. His turning around makes it even harder to recognise.

— .,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,., Noodle — I blink twice, not understanding a word coming out of his mouth.

— huh? Oh, yeah. — I set the shirt down and step aside, giving room to the maestro. Now he is the one staring at me and blinking.

— You spaced out there, my friend. — His smile is ever-friendly. How does he do that? — Could you fetch me a broom?

— OH! Sorry, yeah. I didn’t get much sleep.

— Mia mentioned you being one of them blood mages.

— How does that correlate? —  I hand him the broom, which he promptly snaps in half, pointing at my bloody sheets.

— I know how cat crying... erm, hangover is, both from beer and from magic. I can do basic numerology, my friend.

Using the broken broom, he begins carving symbols into the wall. All being stable, square runes. I am not too keen on Novaran Runic, but one of them looks like the essence of stone.

— Why aren’t you using chalk? Like a normal animal.

— do not like it; it makes my paws dry.

— Pen? Pencil?

— Are you worried about the broom, Noodle?

— Yes. Yes, I am, Jasper.

— Don’t be.

I sigh and plop down onto the bed. There goes my deposit for the room. Unless I smuggle in a new broom, yay. The feeling of my claw sinking into my arm grounds my thoughts. Speaking of grounding,

— In Nomine Ammum und Behkman — Jasper crosses the two halves of the broom and presses them against the wall. — Open.

The wall creaks and shakes, and the plaster cracks in a perfect square the height of Jasper. It morphs, the drywall twisting around the broken broom like Zschahazur’s tendrils. The badger, much to my surprise, holds onto this improvised handle and removes the wall without trouble, laying it aside. This is the part where I get up and peek out from behind the badger. The dark abyss of the hole is quickly dispersed with the click of a button.

— Good idea, Noodle — he says, smiling down at me as I’m holding the flashlight. A tangled mess of wires reveals itself. For me, incomprehensible. For Jasper, an open book. He reaches in with his enormous paws, tugs here, plucks there, hisses when a stray wire cuts his finger, and voila, he is done. A spherical emitter rests securely in the snake-nest of wires, right under its counterpart. While the original one is clearly out-of-the-box equipment, the new one was evidently tinkered with. The two hemispheres don’t even match in colour, and the circular runes covering them make my whiskers twitch.

— Are those Zschahazur watch runes?

— You recognise them? — Jasper answers — Not many do; they aren’t among the most popular of the seven.

— That’s the shadow. And the creature, the mirror. — I’m standing next to him, my fingers tracing over the runes without making contact. — Here are the flowers. And around them all are the chains. Cannot forget those.

— Hah, how come you are so well versed, my friend? Did you dabble in the occult?

— I grew up under runes like that. Like everyone in the Principalities.

The badger’s eyes narrow, and he pulls my paw back.

— Isn’t the worship of the Everchained forbidden up north?

— It is, but - - - - - - — no words come out of my mouth. Not even a noise. I’m just standing there, silently gagging, unable to continue.

— Noodle? — He still doesn’t let go. — What’s happening, Noodle?

I cannot answer him. First my words, then my mind goes blank. Did I already say too much?

— So this is the curse. You cannot talk ab --- — I cut deep into my arm and force his mouth shut.

— SILENCE! — I use his surprise as an opportunity to slip from his paw. Novarans aren’t used to Heminism used on them, but at this very moment, I have partial control over his body. Like a puppet with missing strings.

— This is for your own good, Jasper. I will let go of concentration, but you may never, NEVER talk about this again. I cannot tell you why, but please trust me.

He tries to mumble something in protest, so I dig my claws even deeper into my flesh. His eyes widen in horror when his lips start to mend.

— Jasper, I beg of you. I… I can reveal why soon, but talking will only harm you. You, me, and everyone. Nod if you understand.

After some struggle, he nods, his panic obvious. I let go of the spell, falling to my knees. Finally, blood begins to spill. For immediate control, I had to go for an artery.

— Hämish, adj kegyelmet és forraszd be sebeimet. — A cold feeling envelopes me. Not one of blood loss, but the soothing embrace of the shadows. My prayer was heard, and Hämish answered.

He sits in my chair, and I am on the table. The silence is uncomfortable, but the room is clean.

— When I said I could explain, I meant it. I’m preparing a way to convey what’s happening, despite the curse. About the mouth thing, please forgive me!

— Never dare use such a spell on me ever again...

— Look… I’m terribly sorry…. — he cuts me off, grabbing my arm.

— ...without asking me first, that is.

— What…?

— It was horrifying, but also somewhat fun. I’ve read about this kind of stuff, but I never thought losing control of one’s body would be this… exhilarating. 

— What the fuck, Jasper?

— What? Want me to get mad and report you for using offensive Heminism instead?

— W-well no, but at least don’t pretend you got a kick out of it!

— Oh, don’t worry, Noodle, I am not pretending~

— On a second thought, report me.

— Like, what else can you do? Control an arm? The whole torso? Cause a -

— STOP, STOP, STOP! I AM NOT LISTENING!